All men are mad in some way or the other, and inasmuch as you deal discreetly with your madmen, so deal with God’s madmen too, the rest of the world.
BRAM STOKEREnter freely and of your own free will!
More Bram Stoker Quotes
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These infinitesimal distinctions between man and man are too paltry for an Omnipotent Being. How these madmen give themselves away! The real God taketh heed lest a sparrow fall. But the God created from human vanity sees no difference between an eagle and a sparrow.
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We learn of great things by little experiences.
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He may not enter anywhere at the first, unless there be some one of the household who bid him to come, though afterwards he can come as he please.
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Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact that the driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the sky.
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I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him.
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Take me away from all this Death.
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Good women tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and by minute, such things that angels can read.
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There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.
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A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century.
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She has man’s brain–a brain that a man should have were he much gifted–and woman’s heart. The good God fashioned her for a purpose, believe me when He made that so good combination.
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It is something like the way dame Nature gathers round a foreign body an envelope of some insensitive tissue which can protect from evil that which it would otherwise harm by contact.
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For me, I say no, but then I am old, and life, with his sunshine, his fair places, his song of birds, his music and his love, lie far behind. You others are young. Some have seen sorrow, but there are fair days yet in store. What say you?
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No man knows till he experiences it, what it is like to feel his own life-blood drawn away into the woman he loves.
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Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never more can the Count enter there Undead.
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For me, I say no, but then I am old, and life, with his sunshine, his fair places, his song of birds, his music and his love, lie far behind. You others are young. Some have seen sorrow, but there are fair days yet in store. What say you?
BRAM STOKER